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Oh, oh, you will be sorry for that word! Give back my book and take my kiss instead. Was it my enemy or my friend I heard, What a big book for such a little head! Come, I will show you now my newest hat, And you may watch me purse my mouth and prink! Oh, I shall love you still, and all of that. I never again shall tell you what I think. I shall be sweet and crafty, soft and sly; You will not catch me reading any more: I shall be called a wife to pattern by; And some day when you knock and push the door, Some sane day, not too bright and not too stormy, I shall be gone, and you may whistle for me.
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Set the foot down with distrust on the crust of the world -- it is thin.
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My candle burns at both ends It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends - It gives a lovely light.
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Down, down, down into the darkness of the grave Gently they go, the beautiful, the tender, the kind;...
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My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But, ah, my foes, and oh, my friends, It gives a lovely light.
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